Levan Lagidze, “*Cities*”, 2020, oil on canvas, 105 x 130cm, private collection, London

Black and white or so it seems. There are so many shades.

Often when curating an exhibition I stay away from black/grey works. “They won’t sell”. “They freak people out.” And often it’s true. Yet during one unusually quiet autumn afternoon while curating Levan Lagidze’s annual London solo show, I fixed my gaze on Cities and found myself transfixed. It was not the first time I had seen the painting of course but it was the first time I had done so at leisure.

Half an hour passed before I realised I had not moved from the spot, lost in a myriad of shades and textures. Each time the eyes established a pattern or discovered another hue, new ones were revealed, pulling me deeper inside. Like Alice in Wonderland, Cities was my Rabbit Hole, and without realising it I fell into an infinite, ever-changing and deeply fulfilling universe, emerging only at the sound of footsteps on the gallery’s wooden floor.

I bought the painting. I couldn’t imagine living without it, such is the power of great art. As a gallerist, if I buy an artwork it is at the end of the exhibition, giving my clients first choice. Yet my prediction was right - shades of black and grey … My husband loves the painting and I love that we both see its inherent depth.

Lagidze speaks of cities metaphorically. He is inspired by but does not render any specific place, looking at Earth from a high perspective from which, he says, “all elements are equally important and every detail contains within itself an expression of the whole.” Yet the framework of Cities made me think of my (generally happy) years in New York. Here is a paragraph inspired by the work.

Black and white or so it seems. There are so many shades. What happens in the cities that we live in? Imagine the bird’s eye view, rising slowly above the houses, up up up above the high-rises and the noise of daily routines, looking down at the matrix of streets crossing and crisscrossing their way to some unknown destination or perhaps a predetermined end. People tracing and retracing their paths in the matrix, separated by common thoughts, alone in their togetherness. The maze feels infinite from the narrowness of a limited perspective. Unhampered, at its lofty heights, the bird sees the forest borne of all the trees. There is no black or white and even shades of grey are tinged with amber-yellows of hope. There are no boundaries save those we impose on ourselves. Or so I like to think. I think - or think I know - that were we to take the bird’s eye view we would see a thread of light and love connecting us in the vastness of infinite possibilities.

Levan Lagidze is a national treasure in his native country of Georgia, with work in the permanent collections of major museums.

See more of his art in our free interactive catalogues and in his book of retrospectives, “Untitled”, complete with glorious close-ups, quotes by the artist, and an introduction by the renown art historian, Dr. Ketevan Kintsurashvili (you can purchase the book on our website or peruse it at The British Museum Library). And if you fancy a trip to Georgia’s capital of Tbilisi, this May the national Art Museum (aka Shalva Amiranashvili Museum of Fine Arts) will celebrate the opening of a new wing with a retrospective of Lagidze’s art.

Perspective